


Mikey's Girl

by sleepingseeker



Series: The Tender Trap [2]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3100355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingseeker/pseuds/sleepingseeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey and his family head to April's farm house to help a recovering Leo who is still struggling to heal. Mikey is still learning about the pain of love. He's about to learn more. </p><p>Set after the events of The Tender Trap. Sort of a Part 1 1/2.<br/>(Originally posted to FFN 4-2013)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting Away

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a little over a year after what Leo had gone through with Karai in The Tender Trap. If you read that story all of this will make perfect sense. If you haven't read it, that's okay, but I recommend it! ;-D I promised a Mikey centric fic and here it is. I hope you enjoy it and as always please REVIEW! I live for those reviews!
> 
> Nominated in the 2013 StealthyStories Fanfiction Competition for Best Michelangelo and Best OC.

 

Donatello paced restlessly within the small space he had between his mattress and computer desk. His duffle bag sat near the door. He eyed it as he stepped, turned, took two steps, turned. He stopped. He shook his head, marched over to the bag, unzipped it and dumped the contents out on top of his mattress. He folded his arms in satisfaction as his eyes roved over the books, notepads and pencils, tools, toothbrush, and small towels, along with odd bits of circuit boards and wiring that he'd planned on bringing.

"I'm not going," he said to the mess.

Michelangelo burst into his room. A pair of sunglasses were on top of his speckled forehead. His overnight bag, bulging at the seams hung over one shoulder and across his plastron.

"You ready to go?" He asked happily, his smile dying on his face as he spotted the unpacked items littering Donatello's bed. He dropped his bag with a thud onto the floor.

"Donnie, you aren't packed yet? She'll be here any second." He looked from Donatello's bed back to his brother. "Here, lemme help," he said in an exasperated, parental tone. He crouched and began shoving his belongings into Donatello's bag.

Donatello grabbed his arm. Michelangelo frowned up at him.

"I'm not going, Mikey."

"What?" His blue eyes were crestfallen.

"There is no way that I'm going. Period. End of story."

Michelangelo stared at him, his frowned deepening. He opened his mouth wide and hollered, "MASTER SPLINTER!"

* * *

The skyscrapers eventually gave way to long stretches of factories and ugly looking apartments crowded one on top of the other with barely anything in between except for narrow alleyways filled with rats, homeless people, garbage and empty, dented garbage cans. Slowly, after hours on the road, the congestion eased into the crowded and sprawling suburbs surrounding the city, separate from, but still part of the urban sprawl. Until finally, nature worked its way back into the dreary manufactured human world. They felt the air change and one look out the windows of the van found the highway surrounded by stretches of green country, interrupted only by the rows of plowed fields and the occasional farm house as the Hamato family joined April and her soon to be husband, Casey up to her great aunt's farm.

April drove the van, had insisted that Splinter sat up front to enjoy a better view. The wind rippled his fur back and April glanced sideways at him with a smile. He seemed so much more relaxed now that they were out of the city and he could sit back and enjoy the ride in peace. In the back Leonardo sat, quiet and brooding, obedient but distant, while Donatello sat much the same next to him, arms folded over his chest.

Michelangelo continued to lean forward between the seats to constantly change radio stations, breaking out in song whenever a tune came on that he recognized. He was positively humming with excitement. He was overjoyed to be leaving the lair.

They'd all agreed that a change in scenery would be just the thing for Leonardo's state of mind. After being betrayed by Karai, captured and tortured by her father, just over a year had past and Leonardo healed from his physical wounds but hadn't quite come back to them mentally or emotionally. It was April's idea and though Donatello strongly protested the trip, in the end Splinter knew the benefits would be just what his family needed. Secretly, he hoped for more bonding time with his eldest son. Much damage had been done to their relationship because of Leonardo's pursuits of Karai. But that was behind them now. His heart was hopeful and lighter than it had been in months. Behind them in a battered pick-up, Casey and Raphael followed.

"Is that it?" Mikey pointed and April leaned out of the way, smiling.

"Yep, the farm is just up the road from here. You excited, Mikey?" she asked already knowing the answer.

"Well, yeah I am! You said there's a lake and a fishing pond, right?"

"M-hm. The pond attracts ducks, so you can go feed them. There's fish and frogs and probably some turtles, too."

"Maybe I'll meet a girlfriend, huh." He nudged April and bust out laughing. April chuckled but Splinter only turned his head and stared out the window as the rolling hills spotted with groves of trees faded into the distance.

* * *

Raphael jumped down from the truck. He stretched and twisted and tilted his head up to one side to get a better look at the farm house looming before them.

"Nice."

Casey came around, lowered the back of the truck and began pulling their bags and luggage towards himself.

"Needs some work, but there's plenty of room for everyone."

Donatello and Leonardo appeared next to Casey and grabbed some of their gear. Michelangelo's excited voice drifted from where he and Splinter were talking to April.

"Plenty of room, eh?" Raph asked, "and how would you know?"

Casey shrugged, a coy smile spread across his lips. "Uh, well, let's just say this ain't my first trip up here with Freckles."

He winked at Raphael and turned, hauled two large duffle bags up on his shoulders, heading for the house. Leonardo followed behind him like a ghost. Raphael's gaze traveled to Donatello who stood frozen staring at the strap in his hand. The look on his face could've curdled milk. He stepped up to his brother.

"Hey, Donnie, you gonna be okay?"

Donatello's head turned partially towards Raphael. "I didn't want to come, Raph. I asked Splinter, I…I begged him not to make me come here."

Raph sighed and looked over the top of the truck as April swiped a hand at Casey's head, laughing as she then chased him up the stairs to the front porch.

"He said we had to be here, together. For Leo."

"That's right, Donnie. We're here for Leo. Remember that, got it? You're gonna have to man up here and accept the facts. She's with Casey now. That's that." He patted his shoulder and the motion was not unkind, Donatello nodded and blinked. Then Raph grabbed a couple of bags and threw them over his wide shoulders, the two brothers made their way up to the house.

* * *

Mikey came sliding down the banister of the staircase. He landed with a flourish, but then grabbed the back of his legs.

"Oh man, bad idea. I…I think I might've gotten some splinters back here."

"Splinters, in your ass?" Casey asked then barked out a laugh, slapping his thigh. Splinter rolled his eyes slightly and moved up the stairs to help April setting up their bedrooms. Donatello closed his eyes and took in a deep steady breath as he went up the stairs to find his room. Maybe there'd be a lock on the door and he could just stay inside there the entire time.

"Hey, April, I'm gonna go check out that turtle pond, 'kay?"

"You remember where I told you it was?" she called down from the upstairs hallway.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded in a poor attempt at a country accent. He chuckled and patted Leonardo's arm as he stepped around him and back out into the bright afternoon light.

* * *

The sun felt warm and so good against his skin. He raised his arms up and held them wide with a beaming smile as he walked down the slightly sloping path towards the pond. He then brought his hands up behind his head and continued this way, staring up at the blue sky, the rounded mounds of clouds drifting by and relishing the sound of insects and birds singing as opposed to humans cursing and breaks squealing and police car's sirens. This was just like heaven.

The pond came into view. It was only seventy or eighty feet across, but seemed deep in the center. Cattails and thick reeds grew along one side, the other was flat and perfect for a picnic. Michelangelo decided that's what they'd do tomorrow. A picnic outside, just like normal people! A large twisting tree spread its branches out over the water and an old rope dangled from one particularly large branch.

He let out a  _whoop!_  and ran for the rope. He took a running start then leapt into the air. His strong hands latched onto the rough material of the rope. His momentum carried him up and out until he released his hold and sailed out over the middle of the water.

"Woooo-eeeeeee!" he hollered as his body crashed down in a mighty splash.

It was much deeper than he expected. He scissored his legs and gracefully broke the surface, splashing and spitting a long stream of water out of his mouth as he did. The sound of someone laughing caught his attention. He looked about, his head snapping around, expecting to see April; never expecting to find anyone else. Besides, April had said there were no neighbors for miles. But there she was sitting on the flat edge of the pond. A girl, a strange girl, he never saw before, sat laughing at him. He stammered and struggled and panicked.

 _Oh shit! Oh shit!_  He was in big trouble now! For a second he thought maybe he'd dive back down and sit down there on the bottom of the pond until she got bored and left. He wondered how long that would take. He could hold his breath a long time, but still… He decided against it and instead slowly swam to the shallow edge, then dripping, walked slowly towards her.

She seemed unimpressed with his form and stared openly with a wide smile spread across a freckled, pale face. Her hair, almost white in the sunlight, blew out and off her shoulders in long straight locks. Her arms were bare and crossed over her bent knees. She wore a long draping dress with little blue and yellow flowers patterned across the fabric. Her feet were bare, Michelangelo noticed how her toes held the grass between them. Michelangelo swallowed and rubbed the back of his head nervously.

"Uh, hi?"

"Hi there. You're the biggest turtle I've ever seen come outa there." Her voice was young, maybe fourteen or fifteen. She pointed at him. "And you talk. That's a first. Are you an alien or something? I once thought I saw a UFO fly over my grandparent's farm house. No one believed me though. They thought I was goin' crazy again or something. You believe in aliens?"

Michelangelo blinked the water from his eyes. "Uh, yes?" He crossed in front of her and fought the urge to bolt. Instead, he moved slowly through the grass and stopped not far from her. He glanced around. A couple of crows called out but other than that it was quiet and still. Michelangelo felt a tingle go up his spine.

"You alone?"

She rubbed her chin against her forearm, eyes glazed and distant and nodded. "Yeah, always am."

"Well, I should get going, uh um, back to my spaceship…" he brought his hands together and pantomimed a wavering ship flying upwards, "…back to Jupiter, where all us turtle men live."

She giggled and he froze. The sound of her voice was like music. He felt his heart flutter.

"You're funny. I know you're not from Jupiter. I'm not stupid."

"No. I…I didn't mean that. I just…I have to go."

She watched him silently as he turned, then turned back and waved before spinning around and jogging down the trail, eventually breaking into a wild run.

_Oh shit. I'm in so much trouble._


	2. Getting Clearer

The next morning, Michelangelo rubbed his eyes and turned to look out his window. He'd kept his mouth shut about the encounter the rest of the day and busied himself with unpacking and helping the rest of his family settle in. A large maple tree grew right outside the back of the farm house and Michelangelo was given the room with the best view of the branches. Mostly due to the fact that Leonardo didn't seem to have a preference, he would share a room with Master Splinter, Donatello had already holed himself up in another room, and Raphael decided to have the attic to himself. So, the room with the best view was taken by him.

He rolled over on his plastron and stared into the twisting branches. A black-capped chickadee was hopping quickly from branch to branch. Michelangelo had never seen one before. It was round and small, with the top of its head black and wide white cheeks. He decided it was his favorite bird. Its chirping song had woken him, though he hadn't really slept the night before. His mind was occupied with the girl he'd met at the pond. What was she doing there? More importantly, w _hy wasn't she freaked out by me?_

Feeling anxious and restless, he rolled out of bed and crept into the hallway. The sound of voices drifted up. They were quiet but the tone was harsh; angry. Michelangelo moved stealthily down the creaking stairs, trying to make as little sound as possible. At the bottom of the stairs, he could see into the sitting room. In the yellowish shadows of the morning light, he spotted Leonardo sitting on the worn couch, in the dark, alone, hands folded on his lap, looking all the world like someone patiently waiting for a bus or a train. He was dressed in black sweats and a light grey hooded sweatshirt despite the warmth of the morning. Michelangelo still hadn't gotten used to seeing his brother in clothes and every time it was still a bit jarring. Michelangelo moved through the room, pausing at the hallway leading to the kitchen where the voices were coming from.

"Can't your Aunt Ronnie handle this one without you?" It was April's voice. She sounded fed up and tired. He wondered if they'd been up the entire night fighting. "I mean, really, Casey, we just got up here and now you've got to drive all the way back."

"I told ya, babe, Marcy got picked up by the cops again. With Uncle Eddie gone, it's been too much. Besides she never calls me unless it's important."

There was a soft sound as if April snorted. "Don't call me babe. And that's my point. This isn't the first time. She's been through this over and over. And what about Marcy's brother? He lives with them for god's sake. Can't your cousin take care of this? Why does it always have to be you?"

 _"Sean?"_  Casey asked, his voice rising in disbelief. "Sean can't tell his head from his ass. Look, I'm going. End of story," he snapped, then more gently, "I'll be back as soon as I can, okay? Hey, look at me. Okay?"

Silence. Then, "Fine. Just do what you need to then come back, okay?" A pleading tone that Michelangelo didn't like entered her voice now. "You know I'm not crazy about your cousin. He's...He's a bad influence on you."

"Okay,  _Mom_. Geez." His rough laughter filled the room then faded.

The room grew quiet. Michelangelo looked across the shadows at his older brother still sitting, still staring at the dust motes in front of him, not really seeing them. He stepped over and sat next to Leo as the back door screen creaked then slammed shut. The sound of the truck engine starting and the water in the kitchen sink running and dishes being slammed around drifted into the room.

"Well, I guess we're not goin' to see Casey for the rest of the week."

He glanced at Leo who said nothing. Michelangelo shifted. He wanted to talk to someone about the girl he'd met but was lost as to how to broach the subject. He knew Leo had the most experience out of the bunch but figured that the subject of relationships was definitely out of bounds with his older brother. And he certainly didn't want to be the first one to bring up Karai and what had happened to Leo and how the relationship came to its brutal end. Mikey wasn't about to step on that land mine. No one talked about it. Everyone pretended it didn't happen. Shredder was almost never mentioned. And it was as if Karai didn't exist; had never existed. Mikey wished that were true. He missed his big brother with the easy smile and sparkle in his eyes. This version of him was hard and cold, not mean like Raph could be, but always distant, never really there with them anymore. He scratched the top of one knee, fidgeting as he sat.

"How'd ya sleep?" Michelangelo finally asked unable to keep quiet any longer.

Leonardo shrugged slightly.

"Me either. It's so loud out here with the bugs and stuff chirping all night. Not that I miss the traffic, but it was weird, you know? I thought country life was quiet and peaceful."

Leonardo gave what could've been a nod and stood up and walked into the kitchen.

"Good talk, good talk," Michelangelo said to the room as he tapped his fingers on the top of his knees.

Donatello groggily stepped down the staircase. He lost his footing and slipped down the last two stairs. He hollered; grabbed the railing to stop himself from continuing to fall onto his bottom; one hand slamming into the opposite wall for support. Michelangelo couldn't hold back the burst of laughter that erupted from him.

"Smooth, ninja boy!" he called as he got up from the couch. "Walk down stairs much?"

Donatello glared at him. "Actually, no, not that much," he snapped. Then turned towards the kitchen. "Coffee," he mumbled grumpily. Michelangelo followed, clapping his brother on the shoulder, one arm around the back of his shell.

April looked up at them with a forced smile planted across her face. Leonardo was eating a bowl of cereal, partially turned in his seat to look outside through the open screen door.

"Good morning, boys," she said cheerfully. Michelangelo thought her eyes looked a little bright and red around the edges. She marched up to Donatello and held out a cup of coffee to him. He took it, sipped it, and then blinked in surprise as what just happened hit him. His face snapped up.

"Th…Thanks, April. You didn't have to make me any…"

She brushed her hand at him, dismissively. "Ah, it was no problem. I've been up for hours. I know you like it black, right. No sugar, no cream. Straight up, black."

Donatello nodded in a daze. He glanced around. His keen mind calculating.

"Casey with Raph?"

"Hm? Oh, no. He…He, uh, had to go back. To the city. Some trouble with his cousins. Again." She laughed as if the entire situation was simply hysterical. "Happens all the time," she went on, her voice clipped and strained and Donatello glanced at Michelangelo who raised his eye brows. A smile he couldn't stop suddenly appeared on his face. He cleared his throat, interrupting April's rant.

"So, what do we do today?" Donatello asked brightly and took another sip of his coffee. His day was suddenly looking up.

"Oh, I was thinking maybe we'd go down to the fishing pond and…"

"No!" Michelangelo shouted. Three heads turned in his direction. He looked at each of them in turn. "I, uh, mean, I already saw that place," he laughed nervously, and grabbed the box of cereal and pulled it in front of him, "Why not, I dunno, how about we go to the lake? I haven't seen the lake." He tried to look as innocent as possible as he peered over the box at April.

April ran a hand through her hair. "Well, sure. We can go to the lake today."

That was a close one. Michelangelo blew out a relieved breath and poured the dry flakes into the bowl that April placed in front of him. He decided that avoidance would be his plan of action. Maybe not the most courageous of plans. But he couldn't come up with anything better and he couldn't exactly ask for advice from any of his family members. April was fighting with Casey, Donatello was struggling with his feelings for April, poor Leo was lost in a haze, and Raph would probably not even believe him. And as for Splinter, he shuddered as he recalled Splinter's reaction to Leo pursuing Karai. Well, at least my girlfriend isn't in the Foot, he thought defensively then froze with the spoon halfway to his mouth.

 _Okay, maybe shouldn't think of her as my girlfriend when I only said like two words to her and only met_   _her once._  If he never went back, then that girl would think it was all a dream or a hallucination or something and forget she ever saw him. Problem solved. Now, if he could only stop thinking about her and her grey blue eyes, and the way her toes were curled in the grass and the sound of her voice when she giggled.

* * *

The next day Donatello and April had the most exciting plan of repainting the barn. Master Splinter urged his sons to join in and stressed that the activity would benefit their hostess as well as be good exercise for them all. Too much leisure was frowned upon when it came to their Sensei. Keeping his complaints to himself, Michelangelo carried buckets of paint down to the old barn. They got to work. It was tedious, it was repetitive, it was completely dull.

At one point, Raphael came running out of the barn, screaming like a banshee. His job was to muck out the old rotten hay and apparently he'd come across the biggest spider he'd ever seen in his life. Every time he described it, it seemed to grow another inch. Michelangelo had gone in search of the supposed monster, but found nothing. He'd hoped to capture it and put it in Raph's bed later. But no luck. Raph was reassigned to scraping old paint off the back of the building after that. And that was the highlight of the morning for Michelangelo. The rest was just work, work, boring, work. Halfway between pulling strips of old, peeling paint and smearing the new red paint over the scoured surface, Michelangelo was beat and at his breaking point for boredom and repetitive tasks. He'd been so thoroughly bored, though he tried his best to be cheerful and helpful. April had mercy.

"I think you've earned some play time. That's enough for the day, Mikey."

"Huh?" His paint streaked face shot up. "You're setting me free?"

April smiled and nodded. She watched as he jumped up and ran to the farm house for a quick shower.

"Now he has plenty of energy," Donatello said sourly from next to April.

She turned and brought the tip of her wet paint brush across his snout. He gasped in surprise, then as she laughed and sprinted away, he chased her, swiping his brush at her.

"You can't outrun a ninja, April!"

"I can try!" she yelped and leapt clumsily over a bunch of empty paint cans.

Leonardo, wearing an old white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, arms covered in paint splatters and jean overalls with the straps hanging at his waist, watched them. The smallest of smiles played at the corners of his lips but his deep blue eyes held concern for his younger brother. Master Splinter sat quietly on a mat in the grass observing his son as he chased April, tackled her, started to tickle her; disapproving, but saying nothing for now.

* * *

Michelangelo didn't mean to go down the path, his feet were in more control than his brain. He'd decided to just avoid her but apparently that wasn't going to happen. Because somehow he was there, looking all around for any sign of the girl. The tree's sweeping branches moved in the breeze, the water of the pond rippled in the center where it was deepest. He sighed, disappointed. Maybe it was for the best, anyway. He walked around the edge of the pond, trailing one hand through the reeds and stopping now and then to test what the cattails felt like. They were rough and strange beneath his fingers. He never felt anything like it before. He reached down and plucked a tall, dry piece of grass and stuck it in the corner of his mouth, between two of his bottom teeth.

He moved to the flatter area of soft grass and sat down. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his feet through the silky strands of grass, his toes grabbing the blades as she had done. It felt tickly but nice. He decided that he loved the feeling. The work of the morning and the soft, cool breeze blowing across his skin began to make him feel drowsy. Someone came and sat next to him.

"Hey, April," he said, then did a double take and sat up. "Oh! Oh, it's you."

"Hi," the girl said. She brought her knees up and rested her elbows on top just as she did the other day. Up close, Michelangelo could see her eyes were such a light blue that they were nearly silver. She smiled and it did something to him. He felt lighter, happier, suddenly.

"Where'd you come from?" he asked, noticing her feet were bare.

She shrugged. I always come here. Especially when it hurts too much."

Michelangelo nodded sagely. Then asked, "What do you mean?"

"This is my happy place. I've come here since I was just a little kid. I used to come all the time, but now not so much."

Michelangelo watched her as she talked to him. How her eyes restlessly roved over the sparkling water, up into the sky, into the swaying tree branches; all the light and life reflected in her glassy blue eyes. He wanted to kiss her then. The feeling shocked him. He hardly knew her. But there, when she tilted her head a little, when her toes curled up, grasping the dark green blades between them, he felt his stomach tighten and warmth spread through him and he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss her on her small pink lips.

"So, are you going to answer my question or just stare at me all day?" she asked and he blinked. Wait, what?

"I…I'm sorry, I sorta got lost in a moment," he chuckled and her smile spread. "Please repeat the question."

"What are you doing here? No one's ever been here before." She leaned her cheek against her arm and looked at him, eyes twinkling.

"Uh, I, um, came up with some friends and er, family for a little vacation." He tried to make it as vague as possible.

"Really. How interesting."

He frowned, not sure if she was being sarcastic or not. It didn't feel like she was.

"I like your eyes."

He ducked his head, looked away as his cheeks colored. Ah, man, what was he, a kid?

"You're very bright."

"Hah! You're the first person to ever call me that," he laughed and picked up a flat small stone. He leaned forward and threw it into the pond. It skipped three times before it plopped beneath the surface.  _Yes!_  He leaned back and glanced her way to see if she saw. His heart skipped as his eyes met hers.

"I like you."

Michelangelo froze. Only his eyes moved as he sat facing forward, afraid to move more than he had to.  _Did she just say…did I hear her say…?_ He decided to play it casual and point out the obvious in case she didn't realize she was talking to a mutant freak who she only just met the other day.

"But I'm a…" he paused and she continued looking at him with that freckle-sprinkled smile, he continued after swallowing dryly, "…you know…not uh, um…" he paused again; held out his palm as though presenting the facts, "And besides that, while I think I  _am_  quite the character….aheh, you don't really know me….that…well," he finished lamely and licked his lips. What was he trying to say again?

She shrugged and he wanted to kiss her more than anything in the world.

"Can I kiss you?" he blurted out, then in horror, clamped his hands over his mouth, eyes round circles. Before she could respond, he jumped up to his feet. "I gotta go!" He ran down the path as her gentle laughter flowed after him. His heart pounded in his chest.

 _I'm such a moron! Dumb! Dumb! Dumb!_  He thought as each racing footstep brought him back to the farm house.

* * *

Donatello was sitting next to April on the porch swing as he approached. He slowed down and swung his arms at his sides, trying to appear as normal and nonchalant as possible. He climbed the porch steps and leaned on the railing of the wrap-around porch in front of the couple. For a moment, he forgot why he wanted to talk to April as he took in the scene before him.

April was holding a weeping glass of lemonade up against her temple, one leg closest to the back of the swing was bent, her other leg was draped casually over Donatello's lap. Donatello was engrossed in rubbing the foot at the end of that leg. Something about Donatello's fingers massaging her bare foot made him think of his girl back at the pond and a fluttering skittish feeling went through his middle. Donatello sat smiling and staring at April all the while, not even aware of his brother's presence. Michelangelo felt a nervous vibe suddenly run up his spine. Casey would not be pleased if he saw this, Mikey realized with a sinking dread. He cleared his throat. April squinted up at him, Donatello continued to ignore him. He sighed. He'd have to talk with his big brother later.

"Oh, hi, Mikey. Gosh, I didn't even see you there. Were you down by the pond again?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah I was. April, I wanted to ask you. When we were coming up here, you said there weren't any neighbors for miles and miles."

"Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. There's farm houses and other properties around, we're just pretty spread out."

"Do you…uh, do you happen to know if there's anyone who lives around here, with kids?"

"Hm?"

"You know, like anyone that would be, say fourteen or so?"

She thought a moment then shook her head. "Nope. None that I can think of. The town used to be full of farming families, back when I was a kid in the nineties, but everything kind of died when the economy got bad. The only people around that I'm aware of are retirees, mostly. Why?"

"Oh. Uh, no reason. Just wondering." He shook his confused head and went inside. Maybe she's here visiting her grandparents. Didn't she say she lived with them or something? He decided one thing, tomorrow, he was going to ask her what her name was. He couldn't keep walking around thinking of her as his girl. Though that did have a nice ring to it.  _Mikey's girl._  He smiled to himself and walked into Splinter.

"Oh, uh, Splinter! I'm so sorry, Sensei. I wasn't paying attention to where my feet and they wanted to go," he scrambled to make sense, knowing he wasn't getting close.

Splinter nodded and patted him on his arm, "Relax, my son. I'm fine." He gazed up at his flustered son. "Are you feeling well, Michelangelo?"

"Me?" he squeaked. "Yeah, I am feeling fine. Oh so fine. Fit and fine." He stepped backwards as he went on. "Fit as a fiddle. A finely tuned fiddle, in fact!" He turned and ran up the stairs, praying that Master Splinter couldn't read minds. That wasn't a supreme ninja skill, was it? He'd have to ask Donnie later after he grilled him about his touchy feely-ness with April while Casey was gone.

* * *

Later that night, Michelangelo came downstairs for a snack. April was in the kitchen with Raphael and Donatello, playing cards and…drinking? Mikey paused, looking over April's shoulder. There were three empty beer bottles near her. He counting two by Donatello and six…seven…by Raph, the half-full one in his hand made eight. He shook his head and realized Master Splinter was in bed by now. He opened the fridge and pulled out the milk and nearly squealed in joy as he spotted a plate of cookies. April was an angel, no wonder Donnie loved her so!

"Can I?" he turned and showed the plate to April. She rolled her eyes.

"Those were for tomorrow after lunch, but go ahead," she took a swig of beer and held up two fingers. Her smile widened as her phone rang. She sat up and pulled her phone from her pocket.

"Oh, it's Casey." She stood up and stepped out through the screen door onto the porch. "Hello? Casey? Is that you?"

Raphael slid his cards face down on the table. "Good, we got a minute ta talk," he said to Donatello. He set his cards down and crossed his arms.

"About?" Donatello asked innocently. Mikey knew where this was going. Maybe Raphael would fix things and make it clear that what Donnie was doing with April wasn't right. Even he could tell. He bit into the delicious cookie but anxiety stirred in his stomach.

Raphael leaned forward in his chair and in a low voice said, "What the hell do you think you've been doin' egghead?"

Donatello blinked at him and said nothing.

"You know she's with him, Donnie. She's  _engaged_ , man."

He shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't know…if Casey hears about this he's gonna kick your smart-ass all over this farm. And I ain't gonna stop 'em," he hissed.

Donatello leaned forward in his chair, braced his hands against the table and opened his mouth to retort when suddenly April's furious and outraged voice drifted through the screen. The tone rising as she rattled off words in rapid succession. Everyone's heads snapped towards the sound.

"Are you freakin'  _kidding_  me, Casey? Tell me you're not there with Sean. No. No. Put him on the phone. No. Sean, where are you and Casey right now. Answer me. Casey? No, I don't want to hear any more of your lame ass  _lies_! You better believe it was a mistake that you called me! Right. You'd never want me to know about you're little guys' night out. You know what? Yeah, Casey, you know what? Stay there. I don't want you comin' back, you got that? No. You got that? I mean it! You freakin' slob!"

The sound of her sobs filled the air and the noise of something being thrown into the yard. Donatello jumped up, knocking his chair back and dashed outside. The screen door slamming behind him. Raphael sat back in his chair and shook his head in disgust. He threw back the bottle and drank the remaining liquid inside. Then looked at his youngest brother. Michelangelo swallowed the rest of his cookie and it went down like a lump of lead in his throat and sat in the middle of his stomach like a stone.

"Fuckin' Casey," his voice was slurred around the edges. "He's gotta go an' screw up the best thing he's ever had and for what? He don't even realize April's the best woman in the whole effin' world."

Something dawned on Michelangelo then. It started to get clearer as he thought on it. He looked out the screen door to see Donatello wrapping his arms around a distraught April.

_But he does. Donnie realizes it._


	3. Chaos, Confusion, and Comprehension - Finale

The sky was still dark as Michelangelo rolled restlessly in bed. Finally, giving up the notion of sleep he sat up and looked out the window. Through the branches of the trees he could just see the barn on the edge of the property. There was a dim yellow light coming through the boards. Could someone have forgotten to blow out a lantern? Didn't April say that could be dangerous? Well, he was up anyway. Maybe he'd go check it out. Just to make sure nothing caught fire. Things couldn't get much worse out here as it was, a barn burning down would probably just be the thing to make April finally snap.

He crept out of his room, pausing to peek inside Leonardo and Master Splinter's room. On one bed, Splinter's quiet breathing came from the small bundle wrapping in sheets. He turned to Leonardo's bed to find it made and empty. It looked like no one had used it at all.

"Hm."

He moved quietly through the silent house and eased the screen closed behind him. He glanced to his right, in the corner of the porch, in an old wicker chair, Leo was sitting, staring at something in his lap. He was dressed in the paint-spattered overalls he'd wore the other day, the straps at his waist, and a white t-shirt. He didn't seem to hear or notice Michelangelo as he approached. In Leo's left hand was a short hunting knife. He was in a daze, staring at the point as it scraped over and over against the soft inner skin of his right wrist; the tip of the blade running over a black tattoo. Michelangelo frowned and bit his lip. When did Leo get a tattoo? Something told him that it had something to do with Karai. Uneasiness swept through him. He shivered.

"Uh, Leo?" he asked softly.

Leo turned his head and looked up at him; turning his wrist over, hiding the tattoo. His eyes looked dark in the low light, almost black. They held a haunted far-away look within them. He blinked and they seemed to clear a bit.

"It's early," was all he said.

"Yeah," Mikey said lamely wishing he knew what to say to Leo to help him. Irritation mixed with frustration ran through him. The seconds stretched out in silence except for the crickets chirping in the thick grass. He fidgeted. "I was just going over to see if someone left a lantern lit in the barn." He paused, then when he got no answer from Leo who was now staring out across the yard with a lost expression, he said, "Could be dangerous."

"No," Leo said.

Michelangelo glanced around, confused. "April said if we left the lanterns lit in there, it could cause a fire," he explained slowly.

"No," he repeated, then, "No one left a lantern lit."

"But, I saw light from my window. It was coming from the barn."

"That would be Donatello."

"Oh, Donnie's in there?" He turned his head in the direction. "What's he doing in there?"

Leonardo sighed. It was a soft sound. If it wasn't for the fact that the morning was so still, Mikey wouldn't have caught the noise. Leo continued to stare out into the shadowy yard.

"He's in there with April," he said softly.

Michelangelo's eyes went wide.  _"What?"_

Leonardo glanced up then back down at the knife in his hand. He set it aside. "They went in there earlier. I was sitting here when they walked down last night."

"And you didn't stop them?" Then, "Wait, you were up all night out here? Alone?"

Too many thoughts and emotions were running through Michelangelo at the moment to sort them all out. He didn't know which disturbed him more, the idea that Leo had been out here all night alone with a knife at his wrist or the fact that Donnie had taken a very distraught and tipsy April to the only secluded shelter out here and spent the night alone with her. He rubbed the back of his head. What should he do? What  _could_  he do? His eyes met Leo's.

"Why should I have interfered?" he asked, ignoring the other questions posed to him.

Michelangelo was at a loss.  _Maybe because you're our big brother and we need you to stop us when we do stupid shit? Maybe because you know this is a really, really bad idea on Donnie's part? Maybe because you've been through this crazy relationship crap and know what to do?_

"Leo…"  _we need you. I need your help,_ he finished in his head. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. There was so much he needed from his brother and yet, he knew Leo had nothing to give. Not yet, at least. Maybe never. His shoulders slumped.

"I dunno. I…I just think that maybe you should've said something to Donnie," he said haltingly. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "Maybe  _stopped_  him?"

"Why?"

"Why?" he repeated and felt stupid. He couldn't come up with anything that he could actually say out loud to his broken brother.

"He loves her, Mikey. No one should interfere. They can sort it out for themselves." He reached down and picked something up from the porch floor between his feet. He handed something to Michelangelo. "I made these for you."

Stunned and struck dumb at Leonardo's words, Michelangelo took the gift and looked at what he handed him. Two small, smooth wooden throwing stars, the points whittled down sharp.

"Thanks, Leo."

Leonardo nodded and was looking out into the yard again; looking lost. And deeply saddened. Michelangelo felt a wave of guilt hit him; hard and heavy. The words he'd spoken hung on Mikey's heart,  _No one should interfere_. Which is what  _everyone_  had done to Leo when he fell for Karai.  _But…but…_ Michelango's mind protested in his own defense,  _it was all a trap in the end and Leo almost ended up killed. It was a trap…wasn't it?_  Suddenly he felt unsure and dizzy. Why did everything have to be so complicated and confusing?

He stared at Leonardo as he sat there; looking so alone and broken and lost. He suddenly, fiercely wanted to wrap his arms around him and hug his brother but something kept him from doing so. Some invisible force field of hurt was keeping them separate and he knew it was coming from Leonardo. It was probably subconscious, how he pushed everyone away.

Over the past few months, after everything settled down and he'd healed, he never accused anyone of anything, never blamed anyone, never raised his voice or fought with anyone. Not even Raph. He was obedient and compliant with Splinter's every wish, never even questioned a curfew or command, nothing. He just bottled everything up and left Mikey and the rest of them wondering what he felt, what he thought. More than ever Michelangelo wished he knew what to say. This was the closest anyone had come to bringing up Karai with him, heck, this was the most his brother had said to anyone in months. He opened his mouth only to close it again. Feeling frustrated and helpless, he sighed. He had no idea what to say.

Slowly, feeling a bit lost himself, Michelangelo turned away from Leo and headed numbly out into the yard. His guilt followed like a dark shadow on his heels. His fingers slid over the gift that Leo had made for him; he tucked the gift into his belt; his feet leading him down the familiar path towards the fishing pond. He pulled a few wild flowers free as he walked; gathered them into a sloppy bouquet. He hoped his girl would be there, though it was very early. He needed her badly right now; needed to sit with her, just be in her presence where everything was simple and easy. Behind him the sun was rising slowly in the sky; painting the country skyline in pale green, aquamarine and pink.

* * *

The bugs at the pond were in full force, chirping and singing in the dawn hours. A few frogs were filling the air with their bellowing calls. Michelangelo sat in the dew covered grass and shivered. It was chilly against his bare legs. He set the flowers down next to his ankles. He brought his knees up to his chest and rested his arms over them much like his girl had done every time she sat with him. He rested his chin on his arms. Donnie and April…what had they done? His stomach churned with worry. He swallowed back his fear. Things were getting too messy and complicated. He pinched his eyes closed in frustration. When would things ever be back to normal with his family? The way things were going, nothing would ever be the same again. The heavy thought made him feel sadder than he ever did before. His eyes burned and a tear trickled out of one corner.

"Why are you so sad?"

His face shot up. There she was, sitting next to him, in the same position, in the same dress with the small blue and yellow flowers patterned over it. Her face was a mask of concern. He sniffled and cleared his throat, quickly dashing the tear away.

"I…I'm not… anymore."

Her tentative smile wavered then spread. Warmth and happiness bloomed inside him at the sight.

"What are you doing out here this early?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I needed to get away. Things are getting pretty complicated now."

Michelangelo rolled his eyes. "You too, huh? Tell me about it." He huffed out a breath. Everyone's family is crazy, he thought. "Can I ask you something?" She nodded. "What's your name?"

"My name is Miranda Collins. My friends called me Mira." She smiled as she said it.

Michelangelo practiced saying it in his mouth without a sound.  _Mira_. Hmm.  _Pretty_ , he decided. He glanced at her a little shyly.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

She giggled and his heart tripped with the sound of it. "Sure."

"How old are you, Mira?"

Her eyes traveled up to the sky, now lighter with the sunrise, a few dark clouds gathering just beyond the large maple. The scent of rain drifted on the cool breeze.

"Hmm, I guess, I'd be about seventeen," she said. He raised his eyebrows in shock but then blinked in confusion at her answer. "Yes, seventeen," she said and nodded, as if she just decided this was a fact. "How about you?" she asked, her silver eyes sparkled and he swallowed, distracted.

"I…I'm seventeen."

"It's a good age to be," she said and before he could say anything else, she reached over and placed her hand on top of his in the grass. Her skin was soft and the weight of her hand was almost nothing, like a butterfly had landed on his hand; its wings caressing his flesh. Her eyes went to the bunch of flowers at his feet.

"Are those for me?"

He blinked, suddenly feeling very bashful. "Uh, yeah, you like them?" he asked as he handed them to her, sad to lose the touch of her hand, but happy that she seemed to like the present.

"Black-eyed-Susan's? They're my favorite flower."

He couldn't stop the wide smile as it spread across his face.

"I love being here with you, you know."

His mind went blank. His heart hammered. Their eyes were locked on each other's.

"Yes," she said softly.

He opened his mouth to ask but she stopped him.

"In answer to your other question."

He frowned in confusion, tilted his head. She giggled and wrinkled her nose. He felt the familiar warmth spread through him. He shifted a little closer to her, he couldn't help it. He was drawn to her like a moth to a softly glowing flame.

"The question you asked me the other day before you ran away."

Color rushed to his cheeks as he remembered.

"Oh, uh, um…oh…th…that," he stammered.

"I would very much like a kiss before I have to go."

He froze. "Have to go?"

She nodded and tipped her chin towards him. "A kiss goodbye."

A cold fear washed through him, putting the warming fire in his stomach immediately out and replacing it with soaking grey ash.

"What do you mean,  _goodbye_?" he asked in a low strained voice.

"It means what it means, silly."

His words rushed out as he felt his heart being crushed by the weight of her words. "Won't I ever…you mean…you won't be here…well…c…can I get your number or…address…or…or…something?"

She shook her head and devastation crushed his heart down, down into a deep pit.

"Just a kiss, please."

He bit his lip; pushed away the sadness that was threatening to overwhelm him. This was going to be his first kiss. He'd waited seventeen years for this moment and he wanted it to be wonderful and special and not sad and full of anxiety. He wanted it to be like the movies he'd seen; like his dreams. He just never thought it would be mixed with fear and sadness and loss. He took in a hitched breath as she leaned closer. He closed his eyes and felt her mouth press gently to his. It was sweet, oh so sweet, so soft and tender; again, he was reminded of butterfly wings.

When he opened his eyes, his cheeks were wet from his tears and Mira was nowhere to be found. He shot his head around searching for any sign of her. He was alone. The crickets chirped and the frogs called out, the crows in a distant field cawed. He twisted and turned; opened his mouth to call out to her. But he knew there'd be no returning answer. His heart sank with certainty. He just knew she was gone forever.

_It wasn't fair! Why wasn't anything fair?!_

He dropped his head into his palms and couldn't stop the choking sobs from rising up and taking him.

* * *

The sun wasn't much higher in the sky as he trudged back up the path towards the farm house; head full of uneasy questions, heart full of sadness and confusion and hurt. He heard the gravel crunching sound of a vehicle rolling up the road towards the house. He looked up as the truck bounced to a rough halt. His head snapped towards the barn where April was walking out with her arm hung across Donatello's shoulders, who had his arm wrapped around her back, his hand resting on her hip. His eyes grew round.

"Oh shit," Mikey said as Casey jumped out of the truck and April and Donatello stopped abruptly, quickly releasing and stepping away from each other. His sadness temporarily forgotten as he ran past them to the farm house.

"What…What the fuck is  _this_?" Casey hollered, his voice rising. He ran around the truck and stood in front of April and Donatello.

"Are you kiddin' me, Casey?" April pushed Casey's chest and he stepped back. "I told you I didn't want you comin' back here."

"Yeah," he laughed bitterly. "I see why. Needed a little alone time?"

"What!?" April shouted. "You bastard! And what were you doing all night, I mean, after your little trip to the strip club," she sneered at him.

He ignored her, turned to Donatello and balled his fists. He advanced on Donatello who braced himself and raised his fists defensively; eyes narrowed.

"You movin' in on my fiancé? Huh, you little  _sneak_? What the fuck were you doin' with my girl? Huh? Did you touch her? Answer me!"

He got into Donatello's face and the two started to scuffle as Michelangelo raced up the porch steps. He ran inside before dashing back out, remembering Leo was on the porch. Leonardo was on his feet, watching from the porch, gripping the railing, his body alert and tense. They heard Raphael shout from the attic window.

"What the hell's goin' on out there?"

"Uh, you better get down here, Raph!" Michelangelo called, looking up. From the corner of his eye, he saw Leo vault over the railing of the porch. A moment later, Raphael jumped out onto the porch. Their heads both snapped in the direction of Casey's curses and Donatello's angry shouts.

"Shit," he said and exchanged glances with Michelangelo. "I warned 'em." With a shake of his head he raced down the steps, Michelangelo was close on his heels.

"You'll stop Casey, won't you, Raph?" Mikey asked, worried about his brother. Raph's green eyes shot to him over his shoulder and he pressed his lips tight.

"Course, Mikey. He's my brother." Raph stopped, put up his hand to stop Michelangelo from getting too close to the brawling couple. "But Casey has the right to get his point across, too."

Donatello fell back onto his shell as the blow from Casey's left fist connected to his jaw. Stars exploded across his vision. He shook his head as he tried to clear it; tasted the thick coppery blood as it filled his mouth.

"Get up, you! You ain't no turtle, you're a  _snake_!" Casey snarled at him. "You've been after her all along. I've seen how you look at her! You just waited for your chance, huh? I turn my back for one  _second_ … _Dammit!_ " He kicked at Donatello, but missed. "You fuckin'  _snake_!"

Casey was pacing back and forth, shaking his head in disgust, hovering over him. April jumped in front of Casey and shoved him again. He didn't move this time, but knocked April away with his elbow.

"Get outta here, April. This is between me and your little genius here."

Donatello wiped his mouth and climbed to his feet, seething with fury. What the hell did she ever see in this guy, he wondered not for the first time.

"Stay back, April. I don't want you to get hurt," Donnie said softly.

Casey titled his head, "Aw, now ain't that sweet." He leapt forward and swung his fist and Donatello dodged. He threw a kick and Casey jumped back, bouncing on his toes. "Gotta do better n' that, ninja-boy."

He caught Donatello with a quick jab to the snout. His head snapped back and Casey quickly followed it up with a blow to his stomach with his opposite fist. Gasping for breath, Donatello doubled over. Casey brought his knee up, but Donatello blocked it and caught Casey in the chin with the base of his hand. He stumbled back, but kept upright.

"You don't deserve her!" Donatello shouted at him.

"You're gonna judge  _me_? You were just  _waitin'_  weren't you?" He sneered and shook his head in furious disgust. "You…you're the scumbag here, pal."

He flew forward and swung again at his face and Donatello dodged. But then Casey crouched and launched himself at Donatello. They fell in a heap as Casey straddled him and reared back and pounded Donatello's face with his fists. April was circling them, screaming for them to stop. Michelangelo looked to Raph, his eyes pleading with him to end this.

"Okay. I'd say that's about enough," Raphael said and cracked his knuckles. He felt that Donatello earned this angry retribution from his friend, but he didn't want his brother hurt seriously. The look on Casey's face was one Raphael knew all too well. He was only just getting warmed up.

Suddenly, Leonardo's shell was in front of him from out of nowhere. He moved silently and swiftly; grabbed Casey by the shoulders and hauled him up and off of Donatello, throwing him back. Donatello rolled to one side and groaned, his face a mask of gore. April fell to her knees next to him, murmuring something only he could hear. Casey struggled back to his feet, moved towards him, but Leonardo stepped in the way. Casey then stepped away from Leonardo. He paced and walked in a small circle; pinched the bridge of his nose and held a hand up to Leo.

"S…Stay outta this, Leo. This is…between me and your  _snake_  of a brother," Casey panted from between gritted teeth; face red; trying to get himself under control.

Leonardo stood between Donatello and April and Casey; staring at him calmly, his hands at his sides. Casey moved to step around him and Leo swept his leg around, knocking Casey flat on his back with a loud grunt. Leo returned to where he stood. Casey growled and jumped up. Leonardo swept his legs out from under him again. Then again. Casey punched the ground in frustration. He pointed at Donatello.

"You're a piece of shit. Do you hear me, you  _snake_? I swear, this ain't over." He punched the ground again with a grunt and got up. He marched to the truck and got in, slamming the door. The tires spun and the truck pulled around. He hit the brakes hard and stared at April where she crouched next to Donatello from the driver's window. His expression was awash with anguish, hurt and fury.

"How could you?" He shook his head in disbelief. "With one of  _them_?" he asked miserably then slammed on the accelerator and sped off.

* * *

Master Splinter handed Donatello a moist rag. He sat, dazed and hurting at the kitchen table across from a bristling Master Splinter and a quiet Michelangelo. Leonardo sat in the chair at the head of the table, turned so that he was facing the screen door, staring out into the yard beyond. Raph paced the floor of the kitchen.

"I tried to warn him, Master Splinter. No one  _ever_  listens to me about this stuff," he said and Michelangelo couldn't help but glance at Leonardo. But he hadn't moved. Hopefully he didn't hear what Raphael had just said. But he wasn't sure. If he did he was sure it would've hurt. He frowned at Raph for his blunt insensitivity. Raphael spun on his heel.

"What were you two doing out there all night?" he asked, his voice low.

Donatello shifted in his seat, moved the wet rag from one bruised and swollen eye to the corner of his mouth, but said nothing. Raphael shook his head.

"Forget it, I don't even want to know." He took two steps but then spun around again, "It's  _April_ , Donnie. What were you  _thinkin'_? She's engaged to Casey. You've really fucked everything up this time."

Donatello glared at Raphael.

"Raphael, that's  _enough_ ," Master Splinter hissed. He turned to his battered son and spoke in a low angry voice, "Donatello, I am  _most_  disappointed in your actions. How could you have ever thought that pursuing Miss O'Neil would be wise? You were aware of her engagement and yet, you did the most  _dishonorable_ …"

Michelangelo picked at the pile of flyers and the town newsletter that he'd gathered from April's mail box after Casey had left, tuning out Master Splinter's lecture. He wasn't afraid of a big blow up because April was just in the other room and Master Splinter wanted to keep her out of the conversation for now. He'd been full of nervous energy all morning after the chaos with Casey and didn't know what to do with himself. He flipped the corners up and down, up and down until his eyes caught something. Using his index finger, he stamped down the corner of the newsletter and slid it out from under the pile. The voices of his family faded around him as he flipped open the paper; fear and dread and something else passed through him.

Miranda Collins. Her name. It was her name. It was printed there in black and white. And next to her name, a small black and white photo of her. She looked older in the picture, but the grey eyes, even in the black and white print stood out. Why was her name and picture in the town newsletter? His eyes roved over to the top of the page. One word stood out among the others. Plain and horrifying.

_Obituaries._

Without meaning to, his eyes scanned the text beneath the words. The date of her death…his eyes flew to the calendar hanging on the wall above Master Splinter's head. Yesterday. Last night. But how? How? He'd just seen her this morning. His eyes went back to the paper and he read and reread the text.

His mind spun between the words in front of him and the words she had said to him at the pond. It said she was  **eighty four**...  _I guess I'd be about seventeen_  …had lost a long painful battle with colon and bone cancer… _I always come here,_   _especially when it hurts too much…this is my happy place…things are getting complicated…_  She grew up in town… _I used to come here all the time_ …and had donated all her money to the local library where she'd spent most of her life volunteering and working. She left no family behind… _I'm always alone_ …but friends would always remember her vivid imagination and sunny disposition and lovely smile. She'd passed away late in the evening, slipping away in her sleep … _I would very much like a kiss before I have to go…_

The newsletter slipped out from his trembling fingers. Tears were streaming down his face and he suddenly became aware that everyone in the room had stopped talking and were staring at him. Even Leo had pulled his attention back from whatever distant hell he was living in to look at him now. On shaking legs he stood up. The chair screeched against the floor as he moved. A soft mewling sound squeezed from his strangled throat.

"Oh…oh god…I…I…have to…" he didn't know what he was trying to say, but suddenly, his stomach lurched and he spun around and fell into the garbage can just as he vomited.

Everyone jumped to their feet and raced to his side. They all spoke at once. "Michelangelo!" "Mikey!" "Easy!" "Are you okay?"

April ran into the kitchen. She crouched near Michelangelo. "Mikey? What…?" He held up a shaking hand to show he was okay, only to pitch forward and vomit again; knees shaking; body quivering.

She became aware of Donatello's proximity to her. She stood up stiffly; stepped away from him coldly as he reached out a hand towards her. They exchanged a brief and uncomfortable glance. Her eyes cold and hard, his pleading and full of unspoken words. She crossed her arms as she looked away and he blinked sadly; dropping his eyes to the floor, shoulders slumping.

She cleared her throat then said in a firm, but strained voice, "I think it's time we leave."

"I agree," Master Splinter said, glaring between her and Donatello, his voice harder, and much colder than April's.

* * *

They sat in the van, each caught up in their own torturous and stony silence. Master Splinter sat next to April in the front seat, the brothers were piled in the two back rows. Michelangelo glanced out the window at the passing greenery; his heart breaking and heavy, his mind full of confusion and sadness. Suddenly he sat straight up and hollered at the top of his lungs.

"STOP! Stop the van, NOW!"

April slammed on the brakes as Michelangelo leapt from the still moving vehicle.

"Mikey!" Raph shouted, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Be right back," Michelangelo yelled over his shoulder as he disappeared down an overgrown path. Leonardo glanced at the rusted mail box that stood on a crooked post at the edge of the road and the path Mikey had dashed down. He watched his brother's retreating shell and wondered.

He knew it was risky, but the paper said she'd had no family. He just wanted to make sure…he just wanted to say goodbye properly. As he ran down the path, he spotted an overgrown and weed-filled garden. A large gold and black butterfly flitted from flower to flower. The same yellow flowers with the black centers poked their heads through the tall grass and weeds that he had gathered for her before. She'd told him they were her favorite. Michelangelo's footsteps faltered and he stopped and picked a few, his heart hammering all the while. His breath hitched, but he steeled himself.

He turned back down the path. Suddenly, trepidation filled him as his eyes spotted the sloping angle of a small roof. He moved up the rest of the way towards the little cottage as in a dream. He looked around and found the yard empty. More neglected flower beds surrounded the house. Bright blooms in yellow, pink and orange rose up in between straggly green and brown grassy weeds.

With watery knees, he stepped up onto the small porch. He leaned over and peered through a dusty window into an empty kitchen. Dust motes twirled in the dim rays of light cutting through gauzy curtains into the room. A lacey table cloth spread across a small kitchen table. On one wall, he could just make out a portrait. Her smiling face reached across to him. His breath caught and his heart tripped. He stepped back and closed his eyes, feeling dizzy and sad and suddenly older. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat but it was stubborn and determined to keep his throat constricted. Carefully, he laid the flowers at the base of her front door. He placed his palm against the door, rested his forehead against it and closed his eyes again.

"Goodbye, Mira," he whispered. "I…I'm glad I was part of your h…happy place." He said. Then without a backwards glance, he turned and raced back to van and his impatiently waiting family, dashing his tears away as he went.

He climbed in and said in a mostly steady voice, "Okay, all set."

"What was that all about?" Raph grouched from the back seat. Michelangelo ignored him as April started up the van and pulled back out onto the road.

Michelangelo glanced at Leo, sitting next to him, watching him carefully. Their eyes met and held. He blinked back the burning tears stinging his eyes. Michelangelo still didn't know exactly how much torture his brother's heart was going through, but he knew he understood it a little better than he did a week ago.

He reached out his hand and Leo slowly took his hand in his, and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, just as he did when they were younger and Mikey would come into his room when he was scared from a nightmare. One brother seeking comfort from another. But this time it went both ways.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading - I hope you enjoyed this! Stay tuned for Part 2 of the Tender Trap!


End file.
